


Dark of the Morning

by LadyDulcinea



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Post-Curse Storybrooke, Rumbelle - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-03-20
Updated: 2014-03-19
Packaged: 2017-12-05 21:34:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/728158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyDulcinea/pseuds/LadyDulcinea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU. A 14 year old Baelfire shows up in post-curse Storybrooke having stowed away on Captain Hook's ship from Neverland.  He finds a father who is learning to love, but a secret kept for 300 years may sever any bond they had hoped to recover.  Can broken relationships be healed in a land WITH magic?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Restlessness and Fury

**Author's Note:**

> This story diverges from cannon at the beginning/middle of Season 2 as Bae is NOT Neal (or Henry's father) and has been in Neverland since he went through the portal. He is 14 at the beginning of this story. While it is an AU, I will try to keep it as canon as possible within the bounds of what I must change and spoilers from the latest episode are always a possibility.

“Bae?” Belle asked in disbelief as she opened her door to see the bedraggled boy on her doorstep. Water was dripping off of him in small rivulets, but he didn’t even seem to notice. The hair limply plastered to his forehead was free of its usual soft curl. She ushered him inside with a careful grip on his elbow so he did not slip on the tile floor in the little foyer that led up to her apartment above the library.

Moments earlier, she had dragged herself from a blissfully deep sleep, awoken by the insistent buzzing of her call box. The annoying sound had manifested in her dream as a busy bee hovering by her ear. At first, Belle hadn’t been sure she was fully awake and actually hearing the reverberating noise (the raging storm outside had drowned out even the ticking clock right beside her bed). Weakly she had pushed the button and gabbled a muted “Hello?" to whoever was seeking entrance to her apartment at this hour, but all she heard was a slight clicking that she now realized was Baelfire’s teeth chattering from the biting Maine cold and freezing rain. The boy seemed to be in shock, shaking and taking shallow breaths. Noting the vacant look in his normally expressive umber eyes, Belle wasn’t sure he even knew where he was. Her first priority was to get him upstairs and warm before she even tried to begin to find out what had happened.

After searching, quite literally, for centuries, Rumpelstiltskin’s son had found him. Bae had been hidden in the hold of Killian Jones’s ship and had been pulled through the portal to Storybrooke with the Capitan and their former mayor’s mother. The teen had apparently had quite the journey from being sucked into the green vortex out of his father’s arms, having spent hundreds of years in Neverland as a lost boy. One “awfully big adventure” later (to retrieve a treasure from Hook’s ship), Bae had found himself headed for the “land without magic” he had originally tried to discover. It hadn’t taken long for him to realize his father was here, how much time had passed, and that the man he had missed for so many hundreds of years, still was leaning on magic. Baelfire had initially been living on the streets of Storybrooke, unsure of this new world and where he stood with the father who had abandoned him. Emma Swan, however, could not allow the boy to wander orphaned and insisted that he be remanded into his father’s care where he had been for the last three months. Belle knew that there were tensions and troubles (on top of everything Bae was still a 14 year old boy living with his single father), but she thought that Rumpelstiltskin and the son he had destroyed worlds to locate had been doing better over the last few weeks.

Making sure to lock the downstairs door behind her, Belle returned quickly to Bae’s side and crooned soft words to him as she led him up to her apartment. The brunette shivered once herself, his clammy hand clutched in hers, as she crossed her small apartment to retrieve some dry clothes for the soaked boy. Rumpelstiltskin, she was fairly sure, had something of his in her dresser. She didn’t realize that Bae had stopped in her front doorway until she pulled out the green tee-shirt and grey sweatpants from the drawer and turned to hand them to him.

“Bae?” She called, trying to prompt him to come into her bedroom for the clothes. She heard nothing but the sound of him breathing heavily still standing in her doorway. As she walked into the living room (dimly illuminated by the streetlights below), Belle felt her heart drop into her stomach. Baelfire was clutching his sides and sobbing silently, head bowed. She dropped the clothes onto the back of the sofa as she walked by and pulled him awkwardly into a hug. He was almost as tall as she, but not quite, and he folded into her gratefully. They sunk to the floor as Bae buried his wet head into the crook of her shoulder his sobs coming out with halting words.

“He killed her,” the boy keened into her neck. “My mother. He killed her.” Then his words began to slur with the force of his broken crying. Bae clung to her as if she were the last lifeline he had to a ship that was slowly leaving a drowning man in the middle of a ring of sharks.

Belle could not make out what he was saying other than repeating “he killed her” over and over, softer and softer, as if saying it just once more would make it untrue. She would not pretend that she didn’t understand exactly who and what he was talking about, but first, she really needed to calm him down and get him into dry, warm clothing.

“Bae,” she pleaded softly feeling the water in his hair sluice over her knuckles as she ran her fingers across the back of his hair. Belle shivered again at the sensation of the cold rainwater touching her skin. “I’ve got dry clothes for you Bae,” she promised. “Please at least let me get you warmed up?”

She could feel his forehead rubbing against her neck as he nodded and relief replaced the heart pounding worry. Belle pulled back from him and cupped one of his cheeks in her hand. Her legs were falling asleep from her awkward kneeling position on the floor and she rotated one ankle, feeling the familiar tingle of blood rushing back into her toes. Wiping a stray tear away from Baelfire’s reddened puffy cheek she gave him a sympathetic smile. “Why don’t you go clean up a little in the bathroom? Take a hot shower and I’ll put the clothes in the dryer to warm them up for you. Towels are under the sink.”

Yielding silently, Bae got to his feet with jerky almost surreal movements and headed toward her bedroom and the little bathroom beyond. The teen had been in her apartment a handful of times in the few months he had been in Storybrooke and Belle felt that he was familiar enough with the layout that she didn’t need to shadow him. Grabbing Rumpelstiltskin’s tee-shirt and sweatpants from the back of the sofa, she headed toward the little alcove where her washer and dryer were hidden behind a folding door. She only realized she was herself shaking when she slammed the dryer door harder than necessary and it rattled on the tile. Belle couldn’t tell if the trembling was from her fear for Bae’s state of mind, or anger at what she could only imagine was a situation borne of Rumpelstiltskin’s anger.

Exhaling a shaky breath, Belle stepped into her small kitchen and retrieved her cell phone where it was plugged up for the night on the beige counter. Listening intently, and satisfied that Bae had turned on the water for his shower, she flipped quickly through her contacts and pressed the one saved as “Mr. Gold”. She had found it amusing to use his cursed name when she first awoke to her memories, but Belle was less than amused now. Every ring that went unanswered made her purse her lips in frustration.

“Belle?” The slightly annoyed voice on the other line barked in her ear when he finally picked up.

“I know you’re worried sick,” she started, “and I’m not even going to ask what happened. But he’s safe. He’s with me.” Belle heard him let out a soft moan of relief that she knew was genuine, no matter what had happened between the two earlier in the evening.

“Belle---” Rumpelstiltskin started, but she didn’t let him finish.

“He can stay tonight,” She said. “Might be better actually, but don’t come rushing over here and make things worse,” Belle warned. “You’re still not welcome. This doesn’t change anything between us, Rumple.”


	2. Edge of the Knife

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: In my headcanon for this story, Belle discovered Bae on Hook's ship when she went to get the shawl back. He bolted from the Jolly Roger when he saw his father, however Rumple realized who the boy was after he'd beaten Hook. So Hook telling Belle about Milah (in 2x11) still happened. However, once Rumple realized Bae was in Storybrooke, there was no need to go to the town line, etc. So no gunshot... no memory loss... no Lacey. 
> 
> Also, the encounter with Hook after Bae landed in Neverland was pretty much the same, but Bae didn't believe that Rumple had killed Milah like Hook said. Why he suddenly thinks so now, will come out later. The only difference is that Bae stayed in Neverland and never made it back to our world until he hitched a ride on the Jolly Roger. He remained in the protected part of the Enchanted Forest until Hook and Cora came through the portal in 2x09. What happened to Bae during that time in the Enchanted Forest (as well as his relationship with Hook and Cora) will be explained in future chapters as well.
> 
> Feel free to ask any questions my comments.

“Is he coming to pick me up?”

Bae’s voice from behind her took Belle aback for a moment as she hung up the phone from the short conversation with his father. She was relieved to see him dry and dressed in the clothes she had laid on the bathroom sink after the garments’ quick tumble in the dryer. The boy looked calm, but she could still feel the tension roiling off of him, like a too tight bow string. 

“No.” Belle said shaking her head. “I told him we would talk in the morning.”

He moved timidly, but obviously relieved, to make himself as small as possible in one corner of her overstuffed sofa. A leaden exhale turned into a sob when Bae moved to rest his forehead on his arms. It was difficult for Belle to see him this way, for he had been built up to her as so brave and stalwart by Rumpelstiltskin, she sometimes forgot he was still a boy, a lonely, confused boy who needed guidance as any boy of his age would.

With a soft hesitancy, Belle pulled her satin yellow robe closed and sat on the edge of the matching chair next to the sofa. After tying her belt, she placed a hand on Bae’s head, skimming her fingers blandly across his mop of brown hair. Trying to think of how she had longed to be comforted by a mother at this age, Belle resisted the urge to kneel next to him and dry his tears herself. While it was true that she felt Bae and she had a special bond, through his father, she did not want to impose on his trust, or worse, scare him back out into the still raging tempest. As if sensing her thoughts, a flare of lightning illuminated her apartment followed by a thundering crack that shook the little trinkets she had scattered about here and there. Bae started slightly causing Belle to push the curls from his eyes and lift his chin to look at her. 

“Would you like some tea?” she asked gently, folding her hands back in her lap and toying idly with the lace on her robe.

Bae shook his head no and almost mirrored her movements, plucking silently at the sleeve of the too big tee-shirt he was wearing. “This is his,” he said. Belle took it as a question, though the boy’s inflection came out as a statement.

“Yes,” she confirmed.

“Still smells like him,” Bae mumbled almost to himself. And Belle had to admit he was right, even though it had been through the dryer several minutes earlier. “Is that why you’ve kept it?” He asked her; studiously avoiding her gaze by continuing to pick at imaginary lint on his father’s shirt.

Belle didn’t know what to say to that. She shrugged her shoulder slightly as she floundered for a response. “I…” she started, “I suppose.”

Bae nodded, seeming to understand, or at least not preparing to press the issue. He still rested his chin on his forearms, but didn’t make eye-contact. “He loves you,” the boy finally said.

Again, Belle was at a loss for words. “I know,” she whispered. And the truth was, she did know. Their current separation had not changed that for either one of them and she could state that to anyone with certainty pertaining to her or Rumpelstiltskin. It was a question of maintaining. True love wasn’t a guarantee of happiness or even a relationship. However, for the moment, Belle tried to push those thoughts to the back of her mind. It was not a conversation she needed to be having with Bae right now. “He loves you, too,” Belle said touching the boy’s elbow trying to steer the conversation back to him.

Scoffing, Bae shrugged off her touch, “Well he sure doesn’t act like it.”

Belle’s heart sank at his flippant tone. She had spent much time with Bae over the last few months and was just now seeing the side of him that still must have held deep resentment for his father over past sins. Biting her lip, she chose her words carefully. 

“Bae, we all have done things we’re not proud of, but your father can be particularly stubborn when admitting he was wrong. It doesn’t mean he loves us less.” She added quietly, “He tore a whole world apart to make up for losing you. His love for you has quite literally transcended time and space…”

“And what does that prove?” The teen said, his voice rising as he pushed himself off of the arm of her sofa angrily. “Do you think I like knowing he destroyed so many lives for me when he was too much of a coward to choose me over power in the first place? Did he even think how horrified I would be? Did he even care that he’s only put another burden on me!? He can twist words and say ‘Regina cast the curse’ all he wants, but we both know who did this!”

Sighing, Belle bit her lip. He was right of course, and Rumpelstiltskin didn’t need her to fight his battles for him. He’d certainly had 300 years to think about his curse and his son. No doubt everything Bae was saying had crossed Rumple’s mind as well. He’d just decided that the consequences were worth it. Perhaps they were. Now, however was not the time to bring that up. She needed to calm Bae down.

“You have every right to be angry about all of those things,” Belle agreed; even as Bae flopped petulantly back down on her couch. “But you must understand that in this world things work differently and you’re stuck with your father for at least four more years. There’s no way around that.” Rising from her chair, Belle moved to sit next to the boy. Neither made a move to get closer than their knees touching until Belle realized that Bae was sniffling quietly. He launched himself into her arms before she had time to react beyond tightening her hold around him.

“He took everything from me,” the boy said, his voice watery and muffled in the fabric of her gown. “He made my mother go away… and then killed her. He took away the chance I had to fight and to reclaim our family name. My friends were too afraid to be with me anymore. Then he took my father away, too!”

At first Belle didn’t understand the last, but she pulled Bae tighter against her when she realized that the man he’d grown up with, the Rumpelstiltskin he knew as his father, was taken from him mentally before the portal ripped them apart physically. She knew that Rumple had been trying (for both of them) to make better choices, but right now, for Bae, it was too little too late. She only hoped as the boy got older, things would get easier for them. It occurred to her that he’d mentioned Rumple killing Milah. Her suspicions earlier seemed to be correct. Somehow tonight Bae had found out that information and it no doubt had sent him running out into the storm. Again, she had to remind herself not to push for more information, but to let Bae open up to her on his own. Belle herself had been shocked when Hook had taunted her with the information about Milah. Rumple didn’t deny it when they spoke of it later. The information had made her uneasy for a time, but she couldn’t very well punish him for mistakes made before they were together and he seemed genuinely regretful for the actions that led to his wife’s death. ‘The curse stripped me of all self control for a while,’ he’d explained sadly. She wasn’t sure Bae could forgive so easily… nor should he be expected to.

A few moments passed with no sound in the apartment except for Baelfire’s tears and the occasional rolling thunder. As the body pressed to her side began to quiet, Belle passed him a few tissues from the box next to the sofa. Heavens knew she had spent the last few weeks making use of the same supply. She wanted to weep as well. She had plenty of tears for him, for herself, and for Rumple, but right now Belle knew she needed to be strong for Bae. The situation they found themselves in was complicated, but not hopeless, Belle wanted to believe. Pressing a kiss to the top of the boy’s unruly brown hair, she pushed the television remote into his hand and moved from the couch to the kitchen. Pulling together the ingredients for a pot of chamomile tea, Belle smiled softly to herself as Bae clicked on the television and began surfing mindlessly. They could both use to face the morning well-rested and calm, she thought, as she put the water on to boil.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on Tumblr: LadyDulcinea  
> Find me on Twitter: LadyDulcinea  
> Find me on Deviantart: Lady-Dulcinea


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